Viona's POV
My head turned, still watching my mum wave her hand and grin wider through the rear window as the sedan rolled farther from my parents' house.
"Did you have a good talk with her?" Rafael asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
I sighed and met his eyes. "I didn't talk much. She did most of the rambling while stuffing food containers. In the end, almost everything on the table was packed and handed to me."
My gaze drifted to the three jumbo cloth bags crowding the passenger seat and pressing between me and Rafael.
"Are you good?"
"Of course not. How are we supposed to eat this much food?" I pouted, still staring at the bags.
Suddenly, Rafael cupped my chin and turned my face to him.
"Are. you. good?" he repeated, each word slow, his gaze holding mine.
I bit my lower lip. He tugged it free before I could. I lifted a shoulder. "I don't know. She wasn't like my last impression of her. It makes me uncomfortable, yet… I don't dislike it."
